


Instant Karma

by jdrush



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-11-05
Updated: 2001-11-05
Packaged: 2018-11-20 05:58:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11329935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdrush/pseuds/jdrush
Summary: The van breaks down on the way back from a story assignment in Massachusetts. Weirdness ensues.





	Instant Karma

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Instant Karma by J.D. Rush

Hello Everyone--  
Well, I finally wrapped this one up. (It's only been sitting around for about 4 months now.) It's a response to a challenge that Mark had proposed WAY back sometime during the summer, involving the breakdown of the "mobile command center". Hope you all enjoy...  
Peace,  
Joelle

TITLE: Instant Karma  
AUTHOR: J.D. Rush  
E-MAIL:  
WEBSITE: http://pages.ivillage.com/tallsor/  
FEEDBACK: always welcome, always appreciated.  
RATING: NC-17 for language and m/m sexual situations  
SUMMARY: The van breaks down on the way back from a story assignment in Massachusetts. Weirdness ensues.  
SPOILERS: Planet of the Frohikes; minor mention from Eine Kleine Frohike. (VERY passing mention of the X-Files season 8 finale.)  
ARCHIVE: yes, The Basement, others upon request.  
DISCLAIMER: The LGM and Jimmy Bond belong to CC, 1013, and FOX. But we treat them better.  
NOTES: I'm totally screwing around with the timeline here as it relates to the X-Files. For the purposes of this story, Planet of the Frohikes takes place approximately 3 months after the season 8 finale of The X-Files. Since they never really established how the two shows' timelines were corresponding, I don't feel I'm altering canon THAT much. It's just a small glitch.  
SPECIAL THANKS: To The Goddess, for the fab beta. Michele--thanks a lot! You came through in the clutch. And to Surreal, who also gave me some good ideas. . .I appreciated your help.

* * *

INSTANT KARMA  
By J. D. Rush

Tuesday, 5:36 P.M.  
Big Ernie's Garage,  
Newark, NJ

FROHIKE:

Pacing, pacing, pacing. I knew every inch of that grungy little office by heart I had done so much pacing. Finally, unable to stand the oppressive silence any longer, I turned to the youngest member of our group and asked, disgustedly, "Didn't you check the van over before we left the zoo?"

"Of course I did," Jimmy insisted, earnestly. "I went through it top to bottom. Swear on a stack of bibles."

"Well, obviously you missed something or we wouldn't be stuck in East Bumblefuck, New Jersey," Langly grumbled, with his customary sneer.

"Umm, actually, I think it's Newark," Jimmy corrected him, sincerely.

"That's it! Let me at him!" Langly charged at Jimmy, hands reaching for the young man's throat. Only my quick reflexes prevented Langly from achieving his goal.

"Whoa, buddy. Take a pill," I told him, holding him until he was calm. "'Sides, *I* get first shot at him!" I lunged for Jimmy myself, but was stopped by Byers, who reached out and grabbed me by the shoulders.

"C'mon, guys. We don't have time for all this bickering," he stated, calmly. "We've got some serious problems here."

Langly crossed his arms over his chest and slouched against the wall of the garage. "Yeah, like how the hell we're gonna get the van fixed."

"Actually, I was thinking more of the paper," Byers sighed heavily. "Our deadline is midnight tomorrow, which means we have less than 30 hours to get home and wrap this issue up. We have to find a way to get back to headquarters, and fast."

I took a seat, checking first for oil and grease. (That stuff is hell to get out of leather pants.) "Good observation, Byers, except the mechanic said it'll take at least that long to track down the replacement parts."

"There's got to be SOMETHING we can do," he mused.

"Well, we're only a few hours away from Baltimore," I told them. "If we call Mulder, I'm sure he'll come get us."

Langly came and sat beside me on the dilapidated leather couch. "Negatory, guys. He and Scully are away with the baby. Ain't no way I'm interrupting *that* vacation."

I mentally slapped myself in the head. "Dammit, you're right. Scully will go Lorena Bobbitt on all of us if we disturb them."

"We could always try to get in touch with Yves," Jimmy suggested.

I had to laugh at that. "No offense, kid, but I'd rather take my chances with a cranky Scully."

Jimmy snapped his fingers. "You know, I think I saw a truck stop a ways back up the road. Maybe we could hitch a ride with one of the truckers."

Langly stretched beside me, much like a cat. Cracking his knuckles over his head, he snidely replied, "Sure, right. And we get 200 miles of Country/Western swill and him boasting about nailing the fat blondie waitress at the last stop? No thank you. I'd rather thumb my way back."

"Guys, I think I have an idea." Byers stepped forward and placed a hand on Jimmy's shoulder, earning a smile from the young man. "Empty your pockets. ..let's see how much money we've got between us."

I dug through my jacket, and held out my share. "I've got $31."

"$26 here," Jimmy piped up.

"Ahhh...a buck seventy five?" Langly added, sheepishly.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" I muttered. The boy was ALWAYS broke.

"And I've got $44," John announced, cheerily.

"Shit. That's barely enough for us to get some Big Macs and a hotel room for the night," I groused.

"Right," Byers agreed, still excited. "But it IS enough to get us two bus tickets back to Maryland."

"Byers! That's brilliant!!" Jimmy enthused, and I couldn't help rolling my eyes. The boy had some serious hero-worshipping issues where John was involved. Suddenly, though, he got that crinkly-forehead thing going which signaled he was trying to think. "But. . . there's four of us."

"Well, two of us can go ahead to finish up the issue. And they can wire money to the other two who stay behind for the hotel, food and the repairs," our fearless leader explained.

"Great idea, Johnny," Langly commented, for the first time without an attitude, "'cept, for one thing. Who gets to go?"

"I can solve this," Jimmy proclaimed. "Here, put your hands out like this." He held his fists out in front of them; we all followed suit, though I had a feeling it was a mistake. And sure enough, Jimmy didn't disappoint, as he started sing-songing, "My mother and your mother were hanging the clothes. My mother punched your mother right in the nose."

I yanked back my fists and jumped off the couch. Charging at him once more, I growled, "I'll punch YOU in the nose!"

That got a laugh out of hair-boy. "Yo, Frohike. Take a pill," he shot back at me, as if he were being clever. Turning to the rest of the group, he announced, "I've got the solution. It's so easy. Just watch and learn." And with that, he started pointing between me and Jimmy, then Byers and himself, saying, "Eenie Meenie Miney --you two stay," he cheered, gleefully.

"HEY!" both Jimmy and me echoed at the same time.

"I'm just looking at it logically," Ringo smirked.

"Langly, you've never done anything logical in your life," I remarked.

"Can it, Doohickey. Look, Byers is copy editing. I'm layout. It just makes sense, right?"

"Langly DOES have a point, Frohike," John added, evenly. "Your work on the issue is already completed--I have your story on Peanuts saved on the laptop. And besides, both of you are more knowledgeable about cars than either Ringo or myself. It really would be best all the way around."

"Byers, can I see you for a second?" Before he had a chance to respond, I slung my arm around his shoulder and lead him off to a more private corner. "John, think about this for a moment," I pleaded. "You're gonna leave me alone with *Jimmy*? Shit, I'll be up for murder by tomorrow morning!"

"We'll visit you in jail," Langly chuckled, sticking his head between the two of us.

"Screw you, Langly," I hissed.

Ringo pursed his lips and lisped, "You're not my type, Frohike."

"Guys--the clock's ticking," Byers reminded us gently. "Langly? We've really got to be going. Frohike, you've got your cell charged, right?"

I knew it was useless to try to fight it out any longer. I took out my phone and checked it. "Yeah, it's fine." I sighed.

"Good. We'll be in touch to let you know where to pick up the money," and he gave us one of his rare broad smiles. Handing me a couple of bucks from their small pot, he said, "Just in case you guys want a soda or something. See you both in a couple of days." And with a final wave, they walked out. ..leaving me with *HIM*.

As I was standing there, wondering which god I had pissed off to end up in this situation, I felt a huge meaty arm land on my shoulder; looking up I found a fresh face beaming down at me. "C'mon, Frohike. This won't be so bad," he said, smiling at me with all those teeth. "It could be kinda fun. Like an adventure."

Eyeing him suspiciously, I declared, " I thought I told you *we* don't hug."

"I'm not hugging," he responded, defensively. "I'm just, well. . ." His sentence died out, but at least he removed his arm.

<Forget tomorrow morning. . .he won't live past Letterman. Jesus, the things I do for this paper!>

Wednesday, 6:07 P.M.  
LGM Headquarters,  
Takoma Park, MD

BYERS:

"Damn it! Six hours to go and... .and. . .damn it!!" I shouted, banging my fist on the workstation and throwing a handy cup full of pens across the room. "I can't get this stupid editorial to come out the way I want it to!" And with that, I slammed my head on the desk next to my computer.

"John, John. . .chill, babe, or you're gonna stroke out on me," came the calming voice of Langly. He walked over to where I was sitting and wrapped his arms lovingly around me from behind. I was glad for his presence until.. .until I felt his lips nuzzling at my neck.

"Langly, what are you doing?" I asked, uncertainly.

"You're too stressed, baby," he murmured, his warm breath sending chills down my spine. "I'm just trying to," his hands skimmed lower, across my groin, "relax you."

I jumped as if my pants were on fire and spun my chair around to face my scampish lover. "LANGLY! Didn't you hear what I said? Six HOURS!! We've been putting out this paper for over ten years and we've never missed a deadline. I'm not about to start with this issue!"

"I know, Johnny, but you've been working on this for nearly 20 straight hours now. You gotta take a break, honey." He smiled, running his slender fingers through my hair; stepping forward between my legs, he pushed me backwards into the table and announced, "And I know just how to spend it."

Lips--maddening seductive lips--kissed my temple and down along my cheek. I tried to pull away, but he had me successfully trapped between himself and the desk. "Ringo! Stop that right now!!" I commanded in my most threatening voice.

He just laughed. "You know, Johnny, your lips are saying no but your. . ." And with that, his mouth clamped over my own, stealing my breath--and my soul--without a fight. Pulling away, he flashed me one of his smart-alecky smirks, "Actually, your lips aren't saying no, either."

Damn, just his kisses made me harder than steel. What this man could do to me! "Oh God, Ringo," I panted. "Okay, you win. But make it fast."

He whipped off his glasses and I could see the dangerous, mischievous twinkle in his eye--I should have known then I was in trouble. "Can do," he proclaimed, confidently. Next thing I knew, I was yanked up from the chair and slammed down, face-first, onto the workstation. With lightning precision, he had my belt unbuckled and my pants unzipped and around my ankles before I knew what hit me. He did take a bit more time peeling down my boxers, staying down on the floor once he was done.

I couldn't see what he was doing--didn't HAVE to see, actually, once I felt his lips burning into my hind side, branding my buttocks with his mark. Both cheeks, left, then right got the full Ringo treatment. He covered them both with his hot kisses, aiming closer, and closer. . .

"No, oh God, Langly, don't--not now," I begged, my pleas landing on deaf ears as he carefully pried my cheeks apart and he zeroed in on his target. His tongue was hot and wet as it licked its way around the sensitive puckered opening, slicking it up before finally slipping into the inner sanctum, one known only to him. I tried to shout, I tried to protest --we didn't have TIME for this!--but all I could manage was a low keening sound in the back of my throat.

"Awww, Johnny. . .anyone ever tell you you've got the sweetest ass?" Langly murmured. "All nice and hot and tasty. . ." As if his actions weren't exciting enough, he was using his '20 Charisma' voice on me--the one more potent than any spell of Charming to be found on any of his campaigns. A voice he saved just for me, and used only on special occasions.

I swear, if I were any harder, I could pound nails!

Slowly he worked on me, his lips and his tongue sucking and licking alternately, opening me up, opening me wide, relaxing me, preparing me for him, preparing me for his cock. I spread my legs as far as I could with my trousers around my ankles, allowing him more access, wanting more of him in me. The keening had given way to short shallow pants.

I want him, I need him, I'll die without him. . .

"Oh, baby--want you, too," he shushed in my ear. <My God, had I spoken that out loud?> He was standing behind me now, and I felt his erection against my ass. "Just another second, babe," he assured me, and with that, a slick, greased finger slid smoothly within me. I didn't want to think about how he had gotten hold of any lube--didn't want to think of anything at all. I just wanted us to fuck like animals, rut like two wild beasts.

I'm so hot, so ready. Give it to me, Ringo! Give it to me NOW!

"Oh, yeah, I'll give it to you, honey," he soothed. "I'll give it to you REAL good." He placed his hands on my shoulders, his cock already aligned perfectly. One push. A moment of pressure, a moment of pain. And then--pleasure. Waves of pleasure. Oceans of pleasure, unlike any I had ever known before Langly came into my life. He pushed in carefully, inch after inch, until he was sculpted to me, our bodies pressed together, from shoulders to feet.

And he was in me--deep in me--right to my soul deep in me. "This feel good, lover?" Ringo mewed as he withdrew and slid back in. I tried to speak but once again found my vocal chords were frozen, and a loud groan was as far as I got.

"Baby, you're too tense," he cooed, seductively. "You gotta relax for me, sweetie." Gripping my hips, he plowed into me hard and deep. I cried out ecstatically, so he did it again. By now, I was putty in his hands, malleable and willing to be molded as he pleased. "Oh yeah, much better, Johnny," he complimented as he rocked in and out slowly, torturously, barely moving. "Damn, this is so good!"

Trying to catch my breath, I sputtered, "Langly, you said you were going to make this quick!"

"I said I COULD. I didn't say I WOULD," he replied, impertinently.

Shit! He was in one of THOSE moods. "So help me God, Langly. If I could wrap my hands around your throat right now. . ."

"Ooooh. Kinky. I like it," he chuckled.

All my subsequent blustering and threats did nothing to change his mind as Ringo just continued to take his sweet ol' time. I was starting to get frustrated--not only were precious minutes ticking away, minutes bringing us that much closer to our deadline, but also my own cock was craving attention, dammit! And with my hands on the desk, supporting us both, I couldn't give it the attention it demanded.

Langly, however, seemed oblivious to my plight, and the constant ticking of the clock. He was enjoying himself far too much for such trivial worries. "You look so hot like this, Johnny," he informed me, merrily. "So nice and slutty, with your pants around your ankles and me fucking you. Do you like this, baby? Like being all nasty and dirty like this? Goddamn, I could fuck this sweet ass all night."

<What had gotten into him tonight? He was sounding like a bad porn actor.> "We don't HAVE all night," I reminded him, crossly. "Just. . .just hurry up.. .oh, GOD!" I exclaimed, as he hit my prostate, making me instantly forget my initial argument.

"Ooooh, so bossy," he scolded, playfully. "Such a bossy bad boy." And he slapped me, once, on the right cheek. Not hard, just enough to sting, and I had to bite down on my lip to stop from crying out for more. He was right. I was a bad boy. So bad. Fucking away like wild dogs in heat instead of working on the paper. I was so hot and so horny, and I wanted to be REALLY bad!

"God, Langly! You're killing me," I whimpered deliriously.

"Gee, and I'm just getting started," he teased.

"FUCK!" I screamed emphatically.

"That's the name of the game, honeybuns," he giggled.

I turned and looked at him over my shoulder. "Did you just call me 'honeybuns'?" I asked, incredulously.

He leaned forward and kissed me on the nose. "Would you prefer 'sweetcheeks'?" he grinned.

"What has gotten INTO you tonight?" I questioned, flustered by this point.

"Hmmm. . .seems it's ME who's into YOU tonight!" he fired back. No doubt about it--I really should keep him away from Frohike's porn stash.

I don't know how long it was--minutes? Hours? Days? Time had ceased to mean anything as he continued to ravage me. I gave a few more token protests but we both knew I didn't mean them. No, Langly was riding me like a world class jockey in the Kentucky Derby, and pushing every button that he could reach.

So if I couldn't win this battle of wills, I decided why should HE have all the fun? I started pumping back, pushing myself backwards against him, the thoroughbred taking his jockey for a ride for a change. Langly sensed this switch in roles and figured it was finally time to pick up the pace.

"Ride 'em cowboy!" he growled in my ear, as a couple more playful slaps landed on my ass. I figured when we had a moment I was going to have to have a talk with my lover about his sudden spanking fetish, but for the moment, I just bucked back and went with the flow, shocked to discover how unbelievably HOT I found the whole scene. I didn't know what had gotten Ringo going tonight--but I found that I liked it. A lot. And that surprised me more than anything.

But then again, nothing Ringo did should surprise me anymore. He always was more adventurous and spontaneous when it came to sex, but this was friskier than I had ever seen him before. I really wanted to know what had set him off--so I could do it again in the future.

By now, we were in perfect sync, our bodies moving in a familiar rhythm. My lover had slid his hand over my hip and was grasping my neglected cock, stroking it with his long skillful fingers. We were both entering the final stretch, nearing the end--I could feel him pumping into me, his hot breath on my neck. I threw my head back and groaned. . .so good. . .so good. . .

<RING>

Shit! No! Not now!

<RING>

"Byers, just let the machine get it," Langly rasped.

<Click--"You've reached the Lone Gunmen. We can't come to the phone. You know what to do at the beep.">

*BEEP*

"Hey guys? You there?"

Double shit! It was Frohike. "No, Byers, don't!" But too late--I had already hit the speaker button on the phone. I just couldn't take the chance that Mel or Jimmy might be in trouble.

"Yeah, here!" I wheezed, as Langly continued to drive into me.

"Yo, John--how you guys doing?"

"Great, Mel, just great. Never better." <Oh, BOY what an understatement!>

"Just wanted to check in with you, make sure everything was all right."

"Couldn't be better, Mel," I assured him.

"Damn straight it couldn't!" came my lover's sarcastic, labored reply. "Best YOU'VE ever gotten!"

"What did Langly say?"

"Issue--best issue ever!" I heard a snort behind me, and my voice went up an octave as Langly unerringly hit my prostate with perfect timing.

"And everything's working out?"

"Yup, everything's fine, Mel." I was breathing so hard by this point I must've sounded like an obscene phone-caller.

"So the issue's coming together, huh?"

"Yeah, it's almost there. . ." I stammered, feeling Ringo's movements becoming erratic, his breath even more harsh and shallow than mine.

"Commminnng together," Langly crowed, triumphantly. "Oh sweet Jesus, it's commmminnngg!"

"Frohike--gotta go." I disconnected the speaker just as Langly drove in deep one last time, crying out loudly as his orgasm hit with a force neither of us was prepared for. As I felt his hot seed filling me, I gave an orgasmic bellow of my own and plummeted over the edge, my climax rocking us both. With legs that had suddenly turned to jelly, I felt myself sinking to my knees, my impish, incredible lover following close behind.

"Mmmm. . .baby?" he purred, those hot lips of his nibbling at my earlobe.

"Hmmmmm?" Coherent sentences were way beyond me at the moment.

"Relaxed you but good, didn't I?" he bragged, quite proud of himself.

"So relaxed, I'll be lucky if I can ever stand again," I admitted, grudgingly. Hot damn, did I feel GREAT! Drained of every once of energy, but great nonetheless!

He kissed me on the cheek loudly, ending it with a huge *smack*, and carefully withdrew from me. "Well, you better get your pretty little ass in gear, Johnny-boy-- only six hours to go until deadline, remember?" With that, he tried to stand up--TRIED being the operative word. But I pulled him down onto the floor once more, rolling him onto his back and pinning him beneath me. No way was he getting away from me now.

His big green eyes grew even wider as I leaned down and claimed his mouth with a blistering kiss, one designed to leave him utterly breathless, and I almost succeeded. Pulling away from me, he was barely able to rasp out, "Johnny? The deadline?"

"Screw the deadline," I growled, and kissed him again before he could say anything else stupid.

Motel 6, off Rt. 95 Newark, NJ

FROHIKE:

Jesus, we shouldn't have trusted those two alone. Leave it to Ringo to take advantage of the situation to take advantage of Byers. Horny bastards. Couldn't even abstain for a couple of days. I folded up my phone with a shake of my head--only a miracle could help us make the deadline now if Ringo was getting his ya-yas out.

"Hey, were you on the phone with someone?" Jimmy asked, strolling into the main room from the bathroom, still towel-drying his hair.

"Yeah, I was just checking in on the guys."

"The guys?" he whined. "Why didn't you wait for me? I wanted to talk to them, too."

"Well, they were rather--busy," I stalled. The kid didn't know about John and Ringo's relationship. . .but if they pulled any more stunts like this, it wouldn't be a secret much longer. "They couldn't be disturbed."

"I was just going to say hi," he pouted.

" Didn't have time to chitchat," I explained. "Next time, kid. I promise."

"You promised THIS time," he huffed.

"Jimmy, stop that," I demanded.

"Stop what?" he sulked, given me that 'kicked-puppy' look he gets sometimes.

"You're moping, that's what! Now, get yer ass over here, and I'll make it up to you." He walked over to where I way lying on the bed, dropping his towel as he walked. Crawling into bed beside me, he molded his brawny naked body next to mine, and blessed my lips once more with a hungry kiss.

Okay, so I was wrong--guess we hug after all. Yeah, Langly wasn't the only one getting his ya-yas out. Well, what could I do? JIMMY was the one who seduced ME, for Pete's sake! He hadn't been kidding when he said it'd be an adventure. . .

And it sure as hell had been fun, too.

The End

Archived: November 03, 2001 


End file.
